How my soul delights to hide! Oh, how precious are the lessons Which I learn at Jesus’ side! Earthly cares can never vex me, Neither trials lay me low; For when Satan comes to tempt me, To the secret place I go
When my soul is faint and thirsty, ’Neath the shadow of His wing There is cool and pleasant shelter, And a fresh and crystal spring; And my Savior rests beside me, As we hold communion sweet; If I tried, I could not utter What He says when thus we meet.
Only this I know: I tell Him All my doubts and griefs and fears; Oh, how patiently He listens! And my drooping soul He cheers; Do you think He ne’er reproves me? What a false friend He would be, If He never, never told me Of the sins which He must see.
Would you like to know that sweetness Of the secret of the Lord? Go and hide beneath His shadow; This shall then be your reward; And whene’er you leave the silence Of that happy meeting-place, By the Spirit bear the image Of the Master in your face.
The Master was searching for a vessel to use; On the shelf there were many – which one would He choose?
“Take me”, cried the gold one, “I’m shiny and bright, I’m of great value and I do things just right. My beauty and luster will outshine the rest And for someone like You, Master, gold would be the best!”
The Master passed on with no word at all; He looked at a silver urn, narrow and tall;
“I’ll serve You, dear Master, I’ll pour out Your drink, and I’ll be at Your table whenever You dine, My lines are so graceful, my carvings so true, And my silver will always compliment You.”
Unheeding the Master passed on to the brass, It was wide mouthed and shallow, and polished like glass.
“Here! Here!” cried the vessel, “I know I will do, Place me on Your table for all men to view.”
“Look at me”, called the goblet of crystal so clear, “My transparency shows my contents so dear, Though fragile am I, I will serve You with pride, And I’m sure I’ll be happy in Your house to abide.”
The Master came next to a vessel of wood, Polished and carved, it solidly stood.
“You may use me, dear Master”, the wooden bowl said, “But I’d rather You used me for fruit, not for Bread!”
Then the Master looked down and saw a vessel of clay. Empty and broken it helplessly lay. No hope had the vessel that the Master might choose, To cleanse and make whole, to fill and to use.
“Ah! This is the vessel I’ve been hoping to find, I will mend and use it and make it all Mine.” “I need not the vessel with pride of its self; Nor the one who is narrow to sit on the shelf; Nor the one who is big mouthed and shallow and loud; Nor one who displays his contents so proud; Not the one who thinks he can do all things just right; But this plain earthy vessel filled with My power and might.”
Then gently He lifted the vessel of clay. Mended and cleansed it and filled it that day. Spoke to it kindly. “There’s work you must do, Just pour out to others as I pour into you.”
Grace and Truth 